


The Common Denominator

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Other, past Grand/everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-30 21:52:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17836811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: The entirety of the notion discover that they, at some point, have dated and broken up with Grand Magnificent. Grand sets out to prove that he’s a great boyfriend, actually.





	1. Everyone Finds Out

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Lu, who gave me this idea _ages_ ago, and to maddie, for betaing.

 

It was all Morning’s fault. If he’d never complained about Grand after they’d broken up, no one would ever have known and any number of uncomfortable situations could have been avoided. 

 

You could, of course, make the argument that if Grand hadn’t broken up with him via snapchat then Morning probably wouldn’t have looked back on their relationship in  _ such  _ a bad light, but listen. Grand’s a busy guy, and he likes using modern mediums. It was a convenient and fast way to get the message across.

 

Morning had not agreed.

 

Morning had not agreed to the extent that he’d apparently spend his entire shift at work complaining about Grand, which, Grand certainly didn’t think he had six hours worth of faults to complain about.

 

“And then Tender was like  _ ha that sounds like a guy I went on this date with once _ ,” said Gig, perched on Grand’s work table, “and then Morning was like  _ well he couldn’t have been as bad as Grand Mag _ \- no offence, I’m just, like, quoting here - and then Tender was like  _ wait you were dating Grand  _ and  _ I _ was like  _ wait  _ you _ dated Grand _ and like, hey, how come you never told me?”

 

“Why would I have told you?” said Grand, frowning down at the design he was working on.

 

He erased the right side of the design. Not angular enough.

 

“We dated for like six months!” said Gig, “I can’t believe you never said you and Tender went on a date!”

 

“It was before we ever met in person,” said Grand, “and it was only the  _ one  _ date. I don’t see how it would have been relevant.”

 

Gig huffed a breath. “Of course you don’t.”

 

Grand looked up. “What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

 

“Uh, that you can be extremely closed off to the point that it’s like dating some kind of secret agent? That you’re terrible at actually making time to see the person you’re dating?” said Gig, counting off on his fingers, “That anything about your life that isn’t your work has to be found out through someone else?”

 

“That’s not true,” said Grand, “I’m great at making plans.”

 

“Tender said you ghosted her,” said Gig.

 

“I had an exhibition coming up,” said Grand, “I didn’t have time to go on other dates.”

 

“You were like eight months out from that exhibition,” said Gig, “And you had enough time to start dating me.” He made a face. “Sort of.”

 

“Sort of?” said Grand.

 

“Yeah,” said Gig, “But it’s cool, I’m mostly over it.” He jumped off the table, clapping a hand on Grand’s shoulder. “Anyway, I have to go shoot stuff for my show. Maybe stay away from the diner for a little while.”

 

“You really think it's  _ that  _ big of a deal?” said Grand, “Come on.”

 

“I mean, do whatever you want, that's just my personal advice to you, because I still like you and don't want you to get yelled at in public.”

 

Grand huffed. “Whatever.”

 

He put the conversation with Gig out of his mind during his exhibition. It was a small one, preliminary sketches as a sort of preview showing to the actual sculptures, and seemed to Grand to be mostly a way to brag to parents and friends about your work.

 

Well, that seemed to be how other people spent their time at the exhibition. Grand mostly hovered by his artwork, holding a glass of the complimentary-but-not-very-good wine, watching as people drifted past. He didn’t have people to come admire his (vastly superior) sketches, which really only proved that no one there had good taste.

 

Gig had come to the last exhibition with him, although Grand hadn’t really paid attention to him while they were there. The night was about Grand’s art after all. All his focus had to be on that. It was called dedication.

 

The morning after he usually treated himself by getting his favourite breakfast from the diner, a reward for withstanding a night of drivel. Grand hovered on the across the street from it, looking at the neon sign from a distance. Gig’s words floated back to him.

 

Well. He didn't feel like going to the diner anyway. There were plenty of other places he could go, where he could work relatively undisturbed and also get a nice meal.

 

The tea shop was one such place. Signet had introduced him to it a while ago, and since it wasn't a place the others ever really went it was a good spot to relax and work of some stuff when he needed a change in environment.

 

Unfortunately, the fact that Signet introduced him to it meant that she knew exactly where he was. 

 

She slid into the booth across from him, her skirts brushing against his legs and startling him from his focus. She was frowning at him, her usual impartial expression clouded. 

 

“Uh,” said Grand, “hi?”

 

“Exactly how many people in our group have you secretly dated?”

 

“What are you-”

 

“It's a simple question, Grand,” said Signet. 

 

“I don't know why it matters who I've dated,” said Grand. 

 

“But you know that it  _ does  _ matter,” said Signet, “or you  _ should _ .”

 

“I just don't know why the amount of people I've dated is anyone's business.”

 

“It's not,” said Signet, “the part that I want to discuss with you is the part where you keep it a secret from everyone else.”

 

“I never kept the fact that I was dating Gig a secret,” said Grand. 

 

“That's debatable given you basically never talked about him,” said Signet, “but I meant about  _ us. _ ”

 

“That wasn't really dating,” said Grand, “you said so yourself!”

 

“No, I said it was a series of terrible dates and we should never do it again, there's a difference.”

 

“Well that's not how I remember it.”

 

“Clearly,” said Signet. 

 

She kept looking at him, her gaze flat and unwavering. Grand made a frustrated noise. 

 

“So what do you want me to do? Call every mutual friend we have and let them know?”

 

“I'm sure  _ that  _ part is already taken care of,” said Signet, “I was doing a stream with Gig earlier today and afterwards he told me what happened at the diner this morning, and so I thought it relevant to mention that we had  _ also  _ dated.”

 

Grand's eyes widened. “You what?”

 

“It's actually sort of a relief to know that we all have the same terrible judgement,” said Signet.

 

“ _ Terrible _ \- wait, you told  _ Gig _ ?”

 

“I did.” Signet raised an eyebrow. “But if it's not a secret then that shouldn't be a problem, right?”

 

“Right,” said Grand, “Right, I just- You know, I actually have to go, I have a um. A class. A meeting. A class related meeting. So I'm just gonna-”

 

Grand scrambled up, trying to stuff his sketchbook in his bag and get out an appropriate tip to leave at the same time. 

 

“Sure,” said Signet, amusement in her tone, “bye Grand.”

 

“Yeah, bye.”

 

Grand tried to walk as calmly as possible out of the tea shop and past the window before breaking into a run. He had to find Gig. It wasn't that it was a secret, but Gig was a notorious blabbermouth and he just did  _ not  _ have the full context of the situation- or  _ situations _ \- to properly pass the information he  _ did  _ have on to other people.

 

Grand  _ especially  _ had to find him before he spoke to--

 

“Grand!”

 

Fourteen Fifteen. 

 

“Grand, wait, I want to talk to you about something!”

 

_ Stay calm Grand Magnificent, _ Grand told himself,  _ There's any number of things they could be wanting to ask you about.  _

 

“Oh, hey Fourteen,” said Grand, trying not to sound as out of breath as he felt, “what's up?”

 

Fourteen opened their mouth, then shut it again. They cleared their throat. 

 

“Grand,” began Fourteen, then stopped, pressing their lips together. 

 

“Hey, sorry Fourteen, I'm kind of in a rush,” said Grand, “I need to find Gig, so uh-”

 

“He's in the library with Echo,” said Fourteen. “I've just come from seeing him actually.”

 

Grand fiddled with the strap on his messenger bag, trying to adopt a more relaxed posture. “Oh, yeah? Cool, well, I'd better-”

 

“He told me a really interesting thing, actually, see, because I thought that when we, you know,” said Fourteen, waving a hand back and forth between themselves and Grand, “I was under the impression that it wasn't something you normally did.”

 

“It wasn't!” said Grand, “It isn't!”

 

“Well, apparently it is. Grand-” Fourteen sighed. “Grand when I introduced Tender to you as my girlfriend why did you pretend that you had never met her?”

 

“I hadn't,” said Grand, “not really.”

 

“What, you-! You went on a  _ date  _ with her!”

 

“I mean,” said Grand, taking a step backwards, “can you really know someone after  _ one  _ date?”

 

“Yes!” said Fourteen, throwing their hands into the air, “Especially if the date is with someone as open and honest and wonderful as Tender Sky!”

 

“I mean, I guess maybe we work a little differently when it comes to-”

 

“Yes I would say that we  _ do!  _ And thank goodness for  _ that! _ ” 

 

“Hey!”

 

Fourteen took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm themselves down. “I suppose I should, in part, be thanking you, because if you  _ had  _ realised your luck then I wouldn’t have met Tender. Probably.”

 

“Um… you're welcome?”

 

“Grand-” Fourteen started to say something and then stopped themselves. They took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I am going to meet Tender now, because it is our date night, a night that I cherish. I hope you treat whoever you date next much better.”

 

Grand watched Fourteen walk away. As they rounded the corner their phone chimed. Their expression cleared as they looked down at the message, smiling as they tapped out a reply, moving out of his sight. 

 

Grand took a deep breath, steeling himself. Right. He had to get to Gig before he did any more damage. He was in the library… 

 

With Echo. He was in the library  _ with Echo.  _

 

Well.

 

Maybe it hadn't come up yet. Surely they had better things to talk about than his love life. Gig always had so much to talk about with everyone. Maybe he was on a different topic all together. 

 

“Grand!” said Gig, waving at him wildly as soon as he saw Grand, oblivious to the glares of the other library patrons, “Hey! I was just talking about you!”

 

Grand stomach dropped. “You were?”

 

“He was,” said Echo. “You know, I've never really noticed it before but Gig here really is a fountain of knowledge.”

 

Gig beamed at them. “Thanks!”

 

“Like, for example, it turns out that he was the person you dated right after your summer away,” said Echo, “so you dated him right after me. Like  _ right after  _ me. Weird that it never came up.”

 

“Uh. Yeah,” said Grand, “just one of those things, I guess.”

 

“Is it?” said Echo. 

 

“Yeah, I guess, uh, hey Gig, can I talk to you?”

 

“Sure buddy,” said Gig, not looking away from the screen, “what's up?”

 

“No, I mean, can I  _ talk _ to you.”

 

Gig frowned. “You… already are? Grand are you feeling okay?”

 

“I think he means  _ in private _ Gig,” said Echo. They stood, squeezing Gig's shoulder before they picked up their bag. “I should be heading off anyway.”

 

Gig's frown deepened. “You don't have to go just because of Grand. I can go and then after we talk I can come back and finish doing this. Or neither of us have to go anywhere, and Grand can just say what he needs to say right here.”

 

Echo huffed a laugh. “I don't think he'd like that too much. I should probably head back anyway, I told Ballad I'd cover his class tonight. We can finish it tomorrow, right?”

 

Gig's expression cleared. “Right! As long as you're still cool with it?”

 

Echo took a deep breath. “I mean, I don't see why your viewers would particularly care but-”

 

“Are you  _ kidding! _ ” said Gig, causing several people to shush him, “You can do like, action movie stunts with a sword! In real life! Who wouldn't want to see that and then get to like, talk to the person that does it?!”

 

Echo smiled, a real, warm smile that still made Grand’s stomach flip.

 

“Okay, okay, you don't have to give me the pitch again. I'll see you tomorrow.” They raised an eyebrow at Grand. “Grand.”

 

They slung their backpack over their shoulder, ruffling a hand through Gig’s hair as they left. Gig laughed.

 

“See you tomorrow!” said Gig cheerfully. He turned to Grand. “So, what's up?”

 

“What was  _ that  _ about? You're pulling Echo into your blog now?”

 

“I asked them, if that's what you mean,” said Gig. 

 

“You never ask  _ me _ .”

 

“I've asked you like a hundred times.”

 

“You… have?”

 

“I mean… yeah? Of course? But it's cool, it's, y'know, it's not for everyone and I get that, and you're busy, and… whatever.” He smiled at Grand, overly bright. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

 

“I… I've had a few people today ask me about, um… dating.”

 

“Dating?”

 

“Yeah, like… I guess, I was wondering who else you'd talked to today, about dating, or y'know, whatever.”

 

“I dunno,” said Gig, “I haven't really noticed it as a topic of conversation.”

 

“What about Signet! What about Echo! What about Fourteen!”

 

“Yeah, wow, I can't believe you dated Fourteen  _ and  _ Tender and never told either of them, that's so wild.”

 

“I don't think it's that  _ wild _ ,” said Grand, “who I date is no one else's business.”

 

“Yeah,” said Gig, “but it's kind of weird that you never mentioned it.”

 

“Well, I… it's just… you know, it just felt rude to bring it up.”

 

“I think it's kinda more rude to pretend you were meeting Tender for the first time when you'd, like, dated her.”

 

“ _ It's was one date _ !”

 

Several people shushed him. Grand hunched his shoulders down, taking a deep breath before he spoke again. 

 

“Look, I just… can you just  _ not  _ tell every single person you meet about my dating history?”

 

“I meant, it's more that they've been telling  _ me _ ,” said Gig, “but, sure, I mean, I wasn't going to make a video on it or anything.”

 

Grand let out a breath. “Good.”

 

Gig laughed.  “I wouldn't do that! Why does everyone think I'm gonna do that?”

 

“Because you- Wait. Who else told you not to do that? Echo?”

 

Gig frowned. “No, Even.”

 

“ _ You told  _ Even?”

 

“ _ Please _ ,” said someone from the next computer bank, “Can you  _ stop yelling _ ? This is a  _ library _ .”

 

“I can't believe this,” whispered Grand. 

 

“I can't believe you can't believe it,” whispered Gig. “Besides, I didn't tell Even, Signet told me after she talked to Even and then Even texted me like  _ please remember not everything is content  _ and I was like  _ yeah I know, I would have asked  _ and Even was like- are you okay?”

 

Grand put his head in his hands. “Yes. I'm fine.”

 

Great. So now  _ Even _ was involved in this. Which meant  _ Cascabel _ was involved in this. That was a whole nother layer to things.

 

Not that it should have been an issue! Because it was his own personal dating history and no one else’s business! Even though everyone else seemed to think so.

 

The bus ride to Cascabel's workshop was technically short, but it felt to Grand as though it were taking as excruciatingly long time, each stop of the bus grating on him until the faded front of the workshop came into view. Even was terrible about replying to texts, and so the best way to contact him was always just to go to Cascabel's.

 

Normally this was a trip Grand enjoyed, although  _ normally  _ this trip was a brief window of time to think about his future projects before he got to Cascabel’s and picked up whatever he was using for his art, and not a grindingly slow journey to, probably, an emotional confrontation.

 

Grand went straight to the back, ignoring the  _ Employees Only  _ sign on the door as he always did. Even was, of course, right there, watching Cascabel as Cascabel talked to someone on the old wall phone. Cascabel's eyes widened and he gestured towards Grand, the stretched-out cord hitting the wall. 

 

Even raised his eyebrows at Grand. “Hi. Didn't expect to see you around here.”

 

“I, uh.”

 

Grand shifted his bag on his shoulder. 

 

“Listen, so.” It was hard to speak under Even's gaze. “Uh. I, um.”

 

Even stood up. “You know, I think I'm going to stretch my legs.” He leant over the counter, kissed Cascabel on the cheek. “I'll be out the back, babe. Grand?”

 

Grand followed, his shoes gathering grime from the floor as he slowed his steps. Even grabbed two cheap-looking beers out of cooler on his way out, sitting on an upturned milk crate, gesturing to Grand to sit next to him. He handed one of the beers to Grand, who rolled it between his palms rather than opening it.

 

“So,” said Even.

 

“So,” said Grand. His gaze skittered around, fluttering from Even's shoes, to the trash bags piles by the bin, to the pile of scrap metal, to the rusted out car Cascabel was slowly converting into some kind of garden seating area. “You maybe have heard. Some things. Today. And I uh. I wanted to, uh-”

 

“Grand,” said Even, “if this is about you secretly dating everyone in, apparently, the tri-state area, I've already heard it.”

 

“I knew it!” said Grand, “I knew Gig had blown this all about of proportion, and he absolutely doesn't have all the facts, and it's just… it's just… it's not anyone's business! I don't know why people want to keep going over it! So I've dated people that's I'm friends with! So what!”

 

“I think it's really that people are wanting to vent to each other about you more than anything,” said Even, “well, apart from the secrecy thing. That's pretty weird, man.”

 

“It wasn't a  _ secret,  _ it's- wait,” said Grand, “what do you mean  _ venting _ ?”

 

Even shrugged. “You know, venting. I mean, you know, you date someone awful and you're kind of embarrassed but then you find out a friend dated the same person and suddenly it's a  _ lot  _ less embarrassing, and you find out all the weird stuff they did to you wasn’t just  _ you _ but was just how they are in a relationship.” Even paused. “Although I guess it  _ is  _ kind of embarrassing for you.”

 

“What do you mean someone awful,” said Grand, “I'm a great boyfriend.”

 

Even laughed. 

 

“I am!” said Grand, “I'm romantic! I'm sensitive! I have great attention to detail!”

 

“You're also prone to big gestures and then ghosting people for no reason, picking fights instead of talking about what's wrong, and so wrapped up in your art that you miss every date that isn't taking place inside your studio,” said Even.

 

“I am  _ not  _ like that!” said Grand. 

 

Even let out a breath. “Listen Grand, as someone who has dated you I can say with certainty that yes, you are. And it seems like you were kind of like that with everyone.”

 

“No I wasn't!” said Grand, standing up. “Everyone just focussed on the bad things and just- just… blows them out of proportion!”

 

“I don't think that's what's happening here,” said Even. “Just… look, it's fine that you were terrible as being my boyfriend. If you hadn't been so terrible I might have never met Cascabel-”

 

There was only one thing to do if Even was going to keep being so unreasonable. Grand turned around and walked out. 

 

“Bye!” yelled Even after him, “Great talk as always!”

 

Grand paused, then thought better of it. He would take the high road on this. He wouldn't let a few people's absolutely wrong opinions get him down. 

 

He kept flicking his phone on and off on his way home. No new text messages. No new notifications. That was good. That was good! He could go home and focus on his designs with no distractions. 

 

Once he got home however, having no notifications was a distraction in itself. Usually there was something from Gig at least, or Tender posting about some new club in the group chat,  trying to convince him to take a break, come out for a few hours. 

 

He scrolled through his various timelines. Huh. He'd never noticed before how many couple selfies Tender posted of herself and Fourteen. Or how almost every post of Even's had Cascabel tagged in it. Even Gig's video descriptions thanked a long list of people (all of whom seemed to reply only in emojis), with Echo on there an odd amount for someone who didn't even  _ have  _ social media. 

 

Grand scrolled down further. There were references, now that he was actively looking for them, of himself in there - his bag in the background of an instagram post about an embroidery design Signet was working on, a rambling paragraph of thanks in a description of one of Gig's videos, a photo of himself, out of focus and untagged in one of Tender's many photo albums.

 

He scrolled back up, frowning at the screen. He was a great boyfriend, he was sure of it. Just because they'd never  _ connected  _ when they'd been together, well, that wasn't on him. He was great to date. 

 

And he was going to prove it. 


	2. Prove It

Even, Grand decided, would be the easiest to get to change his mind. Even was reasonable, and once he convinced Even that he was wrong then Even could convince the others, in that calm and sensible way of his, that they were wrong, and that would make this whole process much easier. 

 

And then, once everyone knew he was right, everything could go back to normal.

 

“So I was thinking on my way here, about my new art series,” said Grand, leaning on the counter of Cascabel’s shop, keeping his tone perfectly casual.

 

“Yeah?” said Even, his voice muffled where he was lying underneath the car he was working on.

 

“I always like the start with a central conceit, an anchor point that helps guide people through the series, to help them understand the point I’m trying to get across to them, even if they’re, you know, used to the world of art.”

 

“Very kind of you to consider the rest of us,” said Even, “so what’s the anchor point of this one?”

 

Grand took a deep breath. This was the moment he’d practised and perfected.

 

“Well, I was thinking it would be… you.”

 

There was a long pause, and then Even rolled out from under the car. “What?”

 

“You, as the central focus of a series of artworks,” said Grand, “your strength, your intelligence, your-”

 

“Grand, stop,” said Even, “What are you doing?”

 

“I told you,” said Grand, “creating a series of art, based around you.”

 

“Definitely not,” said Even.

 

“What? Why?”

 

Even sighed, pulling himself up from the ground and leaning his hip against the car door. “Grand, what is this really about?”

 

“Art,” said Grand.

 

“No, I mean what is this  _ really _ about?”

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Grand, “I just find you so personally inspirational-”

 

“Grand, the rest of your exhibits have been based on concepts, not people.”

 

“Many great artists reinvent their approach to art,” said Grand.

 

“Okay, but I don’t know that I should be the focus of it.”

 

“Why  _ wouldn’t _ you want to be the focus of a great work of art? Everyone wants that,” said Grand.

 

“No, that’s something  _ you _ want,” said Even, “this is exactly what I was telling you yesterday-”

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Grand quickly.

 

Even studied him for a moment. Grand tried to keep as still as possible, carefully keeping his shoulders relaxed.

 

Even let out a long breath. “Okay Grand, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to finish up with this car, and instead of creating a series of art based on me-”

 

“What, why-”

 

Even held up a hand. “Instead of doing that, how about you help me with this?”

 

Grand wrinkled his nose. “With  _ this _ ?”

 

“Yes,” said Even, waving a hand at the grease-streaked toolbox next to him. “You can pass me those while I work.”

 

“Wouldn’t you rather have art?”

 

Even laughed, clapping a hand on Grand’s shoulder. “Nope!”

 

Even slid himself back under the car before Grand could argue. “Pass me that open-end wrench?”

 

Grand sighed loudly, making a face at the streak of oil the wrench left on his hand.

 

The afternoon passed quickly, Even’s muffled tone and the distant sound of the radio in the front room the only sounds. Grand tried to keep with his original plan, tried to argue that an art series would be far better than a fixed car, but Even wouldn’t be convinced.

 

Even sat against the side of the car, leaning back against it next to Grand. “It’s just not something I want, man. But I do appreciate you helping out today.”

 

“It was nothing,” said Grand, feeling magnanimous, “Any time.”

 

“Great, because I could use your help tomorrow too, if you’re free,” said Even.

 

“Uh,” said Grand. Then, because Even was still looking at him, he added, “Sure.”

 

“Great!” said Even.

 

He stood, offering Grand a hand up. Grand accepted, barely noticing the layer of grease Even added to his already-dirty hands.

 

“I guess I’ll… see you tomorrow?” said Even, after a moment.

 

Grand blinked. “Right. Sure.”

 

Even’s face softened. “Grand… you don’t actually have to help me tomorrow if you don’t want to.”

 

“What, of course i do,” said Grand, “you know me, always, uh, always willing to help out.”

 

“Right,” said Even.

 

Grand dragged himself to the workshop the next day. He didn’t know what was more annoying - taking time away from his art to work on something as mundane as car repair, or the fact that Even had looked so surprised that Grand was there at all.

 

“I  _ said _ I’d come, didn’t I?” said Grand.

 

“You did,” said Even slowly, “but you… I know that when you’re working on stuff you tend to, uh...  _ prioritise  _ that.”

 

“It’s called having focus,” said Grand.

 

Even huffed a laugh. “Well, anyway. I’m glad you came by. It’s a simple job, but it’ll go much faster with a second pair of hands. Pass me that wrench?”

 

Grand left as the sun was setting, an odd feeling curling in his chest. He sketched on the bus ride home, the designs curling and twisting around one another. Not useful for his current project, but not entirely terrible.

 

The next day was much the same, apart from the break for lunch.

 

“This is actually pretty good,” said Grand.

 

“Pretty good?” said Even, “It’s amazing!”

 

Cascabel laughed. “He’s only saying that because I made it.”

 

“I’m only saying it because it’s  _ true _ ,” insisted Even.

 

Cascabel laughed again, putting his hand down on Even’s. Even turned his hand so he could tangle their fingers together. Grand looked away, checking for any new texts on his phone. 

 

“You’re the best cook in the world. If you opened a restaurant the line would be out the door every day.”

 

Grand looked up. “You’re opening a restaurant?”

 

Cascabel started, as though he’d forgotten Grand were there. “As much as Even keeps trying to convince me, no, I’m not. Not anytime soon, anyway.”

 

“Good,” said Grand, “It would be annoying to have to find another place to get sculpture material from.”

 

Even made a strange choking sound. “Grand…”

 

“It’s fine, babe,” said Cascabel.

 

Grand looked from Cascabel to Even. “What?”

 

“It’s nothing,” said Cascabel, “I’m glad to have you as such a loyal customer.”

 

Even sighed, setting his fork down. “We should probably get back to it. Thanks for lunch ‘Bel.”

 

He leant over, kissing Cascabel on the cheek. Grand quickly looked away again. 

 

“We don’t have much left to do,” said Even, “Fourteen’s picking it up this afternoon.”

 

Grand’s steps stuttered. “Fourteen?”

 

Even raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that a problem?”

 

“No,” said Grand quickly, “Why would it be a problem! Fourteen and I are friends! Good friends!”

 

“Right,” said Even.

 

This was fine. Everything was fine. He could just help, and then leave before Fourteen even got there. He would just listen for the front door chime and then slip out the back before Fourteen ever saw him.

 

_ Not _ that he was hiding from them. Absolutely not. It was just… impolite to see someone unexpectedly, that was all. Fourteen wouldn’t be expecting to see him here, he was just trying to be polite.

 

Even nudged Grand’s knee with the tow of his boot. “Grand?”

 

Grand blinked, shaking himself and leaning over pass Even a wrench. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine,” said Even. He paused. “You okay buddy?”

 

“Totally,” said Grand, “of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“Okay,” said Even.

 

He worked in silence for a few minutes. Grand tapped a screwdriver against his thigh absently.

 

“I don’t think Fourteen would mind seeing you, you know,” said Even.

 

Grand dropped the screwdriver.

 

“If that’s what you’re worried about,” continued Even.

 

“I’m not worried.”

 

“Sure, of course,” said Even, “I’m just saying.”

 

“You know, I’ve just seen the time,” said Grand, “I should probably get going, catch my bus-”

 

“ _ Grand _ ?”

 

Grand looked up to see Fourteen standing in the doorway with Cascabel.

 

“You didn’t ring the doorbell,” said Grand.

 

“Why would I- No, wait, Grand,” said Fourteen, “What are you doing here?”

 

Even slid out from under the car. “He’s helping me fix your car.”

 

Fourteen blinked. “Oh. I didn’t know that was something he did.”

 

“It isn’t,” said Even, “Normally.”

 

Fourteen looked from Even to Grand. “Oh.”

 

“Listen, Fourteen, we’re almost done, give us like,” Even made a face, “fifteen more minutes? I’m just checking her over.”

 

Cascabel put a hand on their arm. “I’ll make us some tea.”

 

“That sounds… nice,” said Fourteen, giving Grand a strange look before they let Cascabel guide them out of the room.

 

“Now I  _ really _ have to go,” said Grand, “my bus-”

 

“Stops every thirty minutes,” finished Even, “hand me that?”

 

Grand let out a long breath.

 

“Thanks,” said Even.

 

Every time Grand made a move to leave, Even asked him to pass him something else, or to check something on top of the engine. He slid out wiping his hands on a oil-streaked cloth and then handing it to Grand. Grand wiped his hands, not really sure of it was doing a thing other that swapping grease between the cloth and his hands.

 

“All done!” called Even. 

 

“So, listen,” Grand began, “I'm just gonna-”

 

“Before you do,” said Even, “I just wanted to say thanks. I know regular mechanic work isn't really your thing but it was actually kind of nice having you around to help out.”

 

“Well, that's- wait, what do you mean  _ actually  _ nice?”

 

Fourteen's head poked around the corner before Even could answer. “All done?”

 

“Yep!” said Even. He clapped a hand on Grand's shoulder. “Right, Grand?”

 

“Uh. Sure?” said Grand. 

 

Fourteen gave him a strange look. “Right. Well, thank you both! I hope it wasn't too much trouble to fix?”

 

“Nah,” said Even, “if it starts making that noise again it might need like, actual new parts though.”

 

Even was looking at him expectantly.

 

“Uh, yeah,” said Grand. He hesitated. “And if it does, Gig can probably help find some. He's good at that stuff.”

 

“I know,” said Fourteen, “but every time I let him near my car he threaten to transform it into some kind of brand new machine.”

 

“A mech  _ would  _ be cool though,” said Even. 

 

Fourteen sighed. “It would, but I don't know that it would be practical for getting groceries in.”

 

Even laughed. “I suppose not.” He handed Fourteen the keys. “Hey, actually, since you guys are leaving at the same time - would you mind giving Grand a ride home?”

 

“What,” said Grand. 

 

“I was going to but I totally forgot I have to go do this thing with ‘Bel…”

 

“No you weren't,” said Grand.

 

“Sure I was!” said Even. “So…?”

 

“Oh… yes, I suppose it's on my way,” said Fourteen. 

 

“Thanks!” grinned Even.

 

He poked Grand in the side. 

 

“Thanks,” mumbled Grand. 

 

The ride back to Grand’s apartment was quiet. An old Aria Joie song, one of her slower ballads, crackled from the car’s radio.

 

“Left here,” said Grand.

 

“Yes, I remember,” said Fourteen.

 

“Oh,” said Grand, “right. Yeah.”

 

Fourteen’s phone buzzed, rattling in the cupholder.

 

“Can you get that? Just tell whoever it is that I’ll call them back in a minute.”

 

Grand hit answer without really looking at the screen. “Fourteen Fifteen’s phone, he’ll call you back in-”

 

“ _ Grand _ ?” said Tender, “Why do  _ you _ have Fourteen’s phone? Are they okay?”

 

“They’re fine,” said Grand, “They’re just driving, so they’ll-”

 

“Oh thank god,” said Tender, “tell them I need to talk to them, it’s an emergency.”

 

“She says it’s an emergency,” said Grand.

 

Fourteen’s hands jerked on the wheel, making the car swerve slightly. “An emergency?! Is she okay? What happened?”

 

“They want to know if you’re okay,” said Grand.

 

“No!” said Tender, “Not really! The guy, this friend of Morning’s said he’d draw up this cool poster for the bar and I like, already paid him half in advance, and they were supposed to be ready to be printed  _ today _ but he just showed me his designs and it’s  _ terrible _ , I can’t put  _ this  _ up for the bar, like  _ god _ , it has  _ papyrus font _ .”

 

Grand wrinkled his nose. “Seriously?”

 

Tender laughed, still sounding a little hysterical. “I know right, like  _ what even is this _ , you know?”

 

“What is it?” said Fourteen, “Is she okay?”

 

“Someone designed this terrible poster and she’s freaking out,” said Grand.

 

Fourteen frowned. “Poster, what- oh no. Oh  _ no _ ! The bar poster!”

 

“Exactly!” said Tender, “I need them to find someone who can like, do a poster design by like 10am tomorrow.”

 

“She needs you to find someone to redo the design by tomorrow,” said Grand.

 

“I don’t really- Oh! Grand! You could do it!”

 

“Do what?” said Grand.

 

“The poster!” said Fourteen, “You could do it!”

 

“Oh! Yeah! Grand!” said Tender, “You’re great at this stuff!”

 

“I am, but-”

 

Grand cut himself off. He had been going to say that he wanted to go home and work on his own stuff, maybe look into glassblowing studios in the area where he could bring the swirling designs he’d drawn the previous day into reality, but…That was probably, maybe, the sort of thing that made people like Even say that he  _ always _ prioritised his work over people. Which he  _ didn’t _ . Even though his work was  _ extremely important, _ much more important than some poster.

 

“Oh, yes,” said Fourteen, “I suppose you have some very  _ important _ work you need to be doing.”

 

Well. He’d show  _ them _ .

 

“I do, obviously, but I can help,” said Grand, “text me what you want on the poster and I’ll do the design after Fourteen drops me home.”

 

“I’d need it tomorrow,” said Tender, “I know it’s a big ask but…”

 

“No, it’s fine,” said Grand, “it won’t be a problem. I’ve worked with much tighter timelines.”

 

“Oh Grand that’s  _ so great, _ thank you  _ so much _ ,” said Tender, “I’ll text it to you  _ right now _ , okay, I’m going to hang up to do that, tell Fourteen I love them and I’ll see them when they get home! Bye!”

 

Grand blinked down at the phone in his hands before carefully putting it back in the cupholder. He could feel Fourteen’s gaze flicking between him and the road.

 

“Uh. She’s going to text me the poster details and she said to tell you that she’d see you when she got home.”

 

“Yes, I could hear,” said Fourteen.

 

“Right,” said Grand.

 

They drove in silence for a few minutes. Grand tried not to fidget, and resisted the urge to fiddle with the radio station.

 

“Listen, Grand,” said Fourteen, “Are you really going to do this poster?”

 

“... yeah?” said Grand, “I mean, I said I was.”

 

“I know you  _ said _ but you’re not… usually you don’t have time for this sort of thing.”

 

“I always have time to help,” said Grand.

 

Fourteen made a strange sound, the corners of their eyes crinkling. “Right, of course. I had forgotten that about you.”

 

“It seems like a lot of people have,” muttered Grand.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Nothing,” said Grrand, “just thinking about the poster design.”

 

“Good, good,” said Fourteen distractedly, as they turned onto Grand’s street, “Tender has  _ such _ wonderful ideas for it.”

 

“Sure,” said Grand.

 

She certainly did have a  _ lot _ of ideas. Grand scrolled through the five, extremely long messages from her, which mostly were about “the vibe” she wanted the posters to have. A chill vibe, but a fun vibe. A fresh, but classic vibe. Also, she wanted there to be a lot of purple on it, because she’d just redone the bar countertops in purple.

 

Grand was sketching almost as soon as he walked in the door, pouring himself a cup of coffee one handed while he started sketching with the other, purple bubbles of light illuminating a city skyline, casting the scenes on the poster into twilight.

 

It wasn’t like he  _ never _ took commission work, obviously, but mostly that was through a third or even fourth party. It certainly wasn’t ever for anyone he  _ knew _ , someone who had actually had any kind of emotional stake in what he was creating. It felt different.

 

He did a few variations of the design, different areas of the city, different points of light, one for the karaoke night that Tender was always trying to drag him out to. It was late when he finished, far past the twilight hour that he was so perfectly captured. He sent the designs to Tender and immediately fell into bed.

 

He woke up to nine messages - five from Tender in various stages of excitement, one from Even thanking him again for his help and extending an offer for lunch “or whatever” next time he stopped by, two from Gig excited about the design, and one very short one from Fourteen, inviting him to dinner as thanks.

 

Well.

 

That was.

 

Unexpected.

 

Grand shook himself, scrolling through the messages again. He replied to Even ( _ no trouble at all, of course, lunch would be great _ ), Gig ( _ yes, they are good - which one was your favourite _ ), Tender ( _ honestly, it was nothing, happy to help _ ), and then Fourteen (after about five minutes of typing and deleting -  _ okay. When? _ ).

 

He frowned, and sent another message to Tender -  _ Fourteen invited me over for dinner? _

Tender’s response was, as always, lightning fast -  _ yeah, I know, I told them to. _

 

“What,” said Grand.

 

_ What? _

 

_ To thank you! _ Came Tender’s response, accompanied by several emojis.  _ I’ll give you the rest of the commision money obvs, but we wanted to do something extra for you, you totally saved my life!!! _

 

_ It’s just a poster _

 

_ It’s not just a poster! And it’s important! We’ll see you at 7!!! _

 

_ Wait, 7 tonight _ ?

 

Tender’s reply was an emoji of a cat giving an enthusiastic thumbs up.

 

Grand scrubbed a hand over his face. Well. At least he didn’t have class today. He had a full day to work on his designs before he had to drag himself over to Tender and Fourteen’s place.

 

The day passed quickly. He felt like he’d barely glanced down at his work and it was already sunset (although his grumbling stomach would disagree).

 

Their place wasn’t too far away from his own, an easy walk. Grand spent most of it going over his day’s work in his mind, and not at all focused on the prospect of having dinner with Fourteen and Tender. He wasn’t nervous about that, obviously. Even though they’d made a fuss about him dating both of them at different points, they were his friends, and really, who would still be thinking about that? Certainly not anyone with sense.

 

He could spot their place even from the start of the street, fruit trees clustered in the front yard and the low fence straining under the weight of the brightly-flowered honeysuckle vines. Grand hesitated at the sight of the cheery light coming from the windows before he shook himself. He’d been invited. There was no reason for him to be nervous.

 

“Grand!” said Tender, greeting him with an enthusiastic hug.

 

“Uh, hi?”

 

“I know I already said it but those posters were  _ beautiful _ ! Thank you,  _ so _ much!”

 

“Thanks,” said Grand, not entirely sure what to do with her bright gaze on him, “which one did you end up using?”

 

“All of them, obviously,” said Tender, letting go of him and gesturing for him to follow her towards the kitchen. Fourteen nodded to him as they entered before turning back towards the bubbling pot on the stove.

 

“Wait,  all of them?”

 

“Yeah,” said Tender, “I mean, they were all so great, I couldn’t just pick just  _ one _ .”

 

She embraced Fourteen from behind as she talked, leaning the side of her head against their shoulder blades and clasping her hands around their front. Fourteen was mostly turned away from him, but Grand could see the edge of their contented smile as they leant back towards her.

 

Grand had a sudden, stark memory of his and Tender’s only date, where she’d caught his hand as he gestured and he’d pulled away, needing both hands to fully describe the work of art he’d been telling her about.

 

That, maybe, now that he was thinking about it, was possibly a mistake on his part.  _ Maybe _ . If looked at from a certain light.

 

Grand cleared his throat. “Well that’s… thanks?”

 

“No, thank  _ you _ !”

 

Tender kept up a stream of conversation as the food finished cooking and continued as they ate, about the posters, about Gig rushing them to his publisher friend Kent in the morning, about the bar’s new countertops that she’d installed herself (“Well,” she’d added, reaching across the table to squeeze Fourteen’s hand, “not  _ entirely _ by myself”).

 

Ordinarily Grand would have found it extremely grating, to be pulled away from his work for such a long period of time for something as simple as food, but for this night at least, Tender’s conversation and Fourteen’s occasional comments were relaxing. The food wasn’t half-bad either.

 

“Tender’s been teaching me,” said Fourteen, smiling across at Tender.

 

Tender smiled back.

 

Grand cleared his throat. “Well, I… thank you. For dinner, I mean.”

 

“Any time,” said Tender.

 

Grand nodded absently, patting his pocket for keys-wallet-phone-miniature sketch book.

 

Tender reached out and put her hand on Grand’s arm. “Grand, I-  _ we _ \- mean it. This was nice. You should come over more.”

 

Grand blinked. “Oh, I-”

 

“At least think about it,” said Fourteen.

 

Grand’s eyes flicked down to where Fourteen’s hands were resting on Tender’s waist for a moment before he quickly forced his gaze away.

 

“Sure. Maybe,” said Grand, “I mean, I kind of have a gallery showing coming up, so…”

 

Tender huffed a laugh. “You  _ always _ have a gallery showing coming up.” She squeezed his arm gently, then let go. “Just… the offer is there.”

 

Grand nodded.

 

His usual rush of thoughts was quiet on his walk back to his apartment, the warmth of the meal still lingering with him.

 

His phone rang before his alarm went off the next morning, which Grand figured out after a few dozen tries at snoozing it.

 

“‘Lo?” mumbled Grand, his face half pressed into the pillow.

 

“Oh good,” said Signet, her voice crisp, “you’re awake.”

 

“What, yeah, I’m…” Grand rolled over to look up at the ceiling, blinking a few times to try to wake himself up. “Signet?”

 

“Yes,” said Signet, amusement curling through her tone.

 

“Why are you calling me at-” Grand lifted the phone away from his face to squint at the time, “-at 8am? On a Saturday?”

 

“My car wouldn’t start, flat battery, and I’m supposed to go meet Gig,” said Signet.

 

“Okay,” said Grand slowly.

 

“And  _ normally _ I’d just ask Gig to come pick me up, but he’s already set up all his, you know-” Grand can picture Signet’s wide gesture “stuff.  _ And _ all my stuff. And if I took the bus there it would take me like two hours instead of half an hour, which would be great, because according to Gig we’ll be done in two hours.”

 

Grand blinked again. “Okay?”

 

Signet sighed. “Grand, I’m outside. Can you give me a ride across town?”

 

“You’re…?”

 

“I’m outside, yes.”

 

A knocking at the door echoed down the corridor.

 

“Like, you’re outside right now?” said Grand.

 

“Look, if I could have given you advance notice, I would have,” said Signet, “If I could have given  _ myself _ advance notice, that would have been great too, actually. Can you give me a ride or not?”

 

“Why even ask me?” said Grand.

 

“I heard you were the guy to ask for favours,” said Signet.

 

Grand scrubbed a hand over his face. Tender and Fourteen. He should have known that dinner had ulterior motives.

 

Then again. Maybe this was a way to finally get people to acknowledge that he was a kind and generous person, and a perfect boyfriend, actually.

 

“Fine,” sighed Grand, “give me ten minutes.”

 

“Can you make it five?” said Signet.

 

Grand made a non-commital noise, and ended the call.

 

She was waiting outside when he got downstairs, perched on the low stone fence, her posture perfectly straight as she scrolled through her phone. She raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“ _ Finally _ .”

 

“I could just go back inside,” said Grand.

 

“You wouldn’t,” said Signet, voice confident as she stepped towards his car.

 

Grand’s steps faltered a little at her tone. “Right. Because I’m a favours guy.”

 

“Apparently.”

 

He caught a flash of her smile, rare and warm and genuine as he got into the driver’s seat, ignoring the swooping feeling in his stomach.

 

“So,” said Signet, before he’d even started the car, “head towards the tea shop and then keep going, I’ll tell you when to turn.”

 

Grand nodded, adjusting his grip on the wheel.

 

“You okay?” asked Signet.

 

“Fine,” said Grand, “So what’s this thing you’re doing with Gig?”

 

Signet sighed. “It’s for this series he’s doing, I don’t know, he explained the connecting theory behind it all but it sounded kind of like a mess to me. It’ll probably turn out fine though, his stuff always ends up looking pretty good.”

 

Grand flicked his gaze to her for a moment before looking back at the road. “You watch his stuff?”

 

“You don’t?”

 

Grand paused. “I have…. I’m very busy.”

 

“Right,” said Signet.

 

She turned back to her phone, silent for the rest of the trip except for the occasional direction.

 

They arrived at a park. As he got out of the car, Grand could see a mass of poles and rigging, surrounded by bright orange traffic cones. Next to it was Gig, waving excitedly and dressed almost as brightly.

 

“You made it!” said Gig, “And you brought Grand? Not that I’m not happy to see you.”

 

“My car broke down,” said Signet, “And Fourteen was in the middle of helping Tender pick up bar supplies.”

 

Gig nodded, then caught himself. “Belgard broke down?”

 

Signet shrugged, but her hands went to her long scarf, rolling it between her fingers. “I’m sure it’s just a flat battery or something.”

 

“I could take a look at it after we’re done here, if you want?” said Gig.

 

“I… that would be great, actually.”

 

Gig beamed. “No problem! We’ll do this, then we’ll fix Belgard up - I think I have a spare battery in my car somewhere…”

 

“Of course you do,” said Signet dryly.

 

Gig laughed, then clapped his hands together. “Right! So are you ready to do this?”

 

“Naturally,” said Signet.

 

She shed her long coat, handing it to Grand. He took it, and found himself quickly also layered with Signet’s scarf, her belt, and her dress, until Signet was left in only a tight, shimmering jumpsuit.

 

Grand shifted the clothes in his arms. “Uh. What exactly are you here to do?”

 

“My speciality,” said Signet.

 

She flicked her hair over her shoulder, heading the the rope ladder that led to the top of the pole structure.

 

“This is so cool,” said Gig, looking up at Signet before checking over his camera.

 

“Ready?” called Signet.

 

Gig waved. “Already recording!”

 

Signet huff of breath was lost of the wind, but Grand could see the motion of it in her shoulders before she launched herself off the high platform towards the ropes. Grand gasped, stopped from clutching at Gig’s shoulder by the amount of Signet’s clothing in his arms. Signet’s body arched through the air, her hands catching easily on the trapeze.

 

She swung herself up into a seated position, waving down at Gig before letting herself fall, keeping ahold of the trapeze to swing her body around it a few times before she pulled herself into a standing position.

 

Grand let go of the breath he didn’t even realise he’d been holding.

 

“Yeah,” said Gig, “watching her do this is always kind of like that.”

 

Signet waved again, and Grand could just make out her grin before she jumped with an easy grace with the next one and hanging upside-down for a moment before she moved on. She continued across the structure, finishing on two long silks, sliding herself down to the lower platform as easily as if she was walking on solid ground.

 

She paused, and then bowed. Gig let out a whooping laugh as he moved towards her, shifting the camera a little more onto his shoulder. Grand followed, feeling a little light headed.

 

Signet climbed down the small rope ladder to meet them. She was barely even out of breath.

 

“How was that?”

 

“Un,  _ incredible _ !” said Gig, waving his free hand for emphasis.

 

Signet laughed. “So no second takes?”

 

“Why would I need a second take?” said Gig.

 

“Yeah,” echoed Grand faintly.

 

Signet made a face at him before her expression cleared. “Oh yeah.” She turned to Gig. “Grand’s never seen me do that before.”

 

“But weren’t you- Oh, right,” said Gig, giving Grand a side-long look “Got it.”

 

“What?” said Grand.

 

“Well, you weren’t exactly bursting with enthusiasm for coming to any of my shows,” said Signet.

 

“Well,” huffed Grand, “I was… I had…”

 

“A gallery show coming up,” said Signet, “Very important, I know.”

 

Grand frowned. He probably had. Or maybe it had been a class he was studying for. Or he’d just wanted the time to work on his own stuff.

 

Or maybe he hadn’t really been listening when Signet had asked him.

 

Signet slid her long dress back over her head, turning to Gig. “How’s it looking?”

 

Gig was focused down on the camera, watching the replay carefully. “Perfect, like, barely any editing- actually It’ll be cool to keep this all as one cut, maybe, because then it-” he broke off with a laugh. “Definitely going to keep it all one cut so you can hear Grand gasping in the background.”

 

“Gasping, really?” said Signet.

 

“I was not,” scoffed Grand.

 

Gig laughed again. “You so were! But it’s cool, people like that legit reaction stuff.”

 

Grand busied himself by shaking out Signet’s coat, ducking his head slightly to hide his flushed cheeks. He was quiet as Gig chatted away to Signet, something about angles and future streams, people he was thinking about asking.

 

“-already asked Echo, which, their stuff was  _ so cool _ \- but it might be good to do a quieter one. I was going to ask Fourteen, but they get so nervous about being on-camera, and I already had this idea to do a gardening livestream with them in the spring, so I don’t want to push it, you know? And Morning already agreed to do this cooking stream with me, and I know they’re like, mega busy helping their moms with the diner-”

 

“What kind of quiet stream?” said Grand.

 

Gig waved a hand. “I dunno, like… something restful, you know? Like, a quiet explainer type thing, it’s good to break up the big stuff like this.” He made a face. “Not exactly my forte, you know?”

 

Signet hmmed, nudging Grand with her elbow. “I’m sure you’ll find  _ some _ one to help out. Maybe someone who loves to talk endlessly about what they do.”

 

“Me?” said Grand.

 

Gig looked down, fiddling with the camera. “Grand already said he doesn’t want to do it.”

 

“When did I say that?”

 

Gig looked up, frowning at him. “When we were, y’know, dating? You said it was quote beneath you end quote.”

 

“Oh,” said Grand. He could feel Signet’s gaze fixed on him. “Well I didn’t mean it like… I’d be happy to do a stream with you, if that was something you’d be interested in doing.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Uh, sure?”

 

“Oh, man, that would be so great- I know you were doing some sculpture a while a ago, we could do it as like a studio tour? Are you still doing that?”

 

“Yeah, I… I mean, I haven’t been in the studio yet for this exhibition, but I will be, it’s… it’s a melding of glass and clay, showing the contrast between the two mediums as symbols of-”

 

“Save something for the stream,” said Signet, “Gig, do you need a hand packing all this up?”

 

“Nah, Armstrong’s coming by in a bit with Kent, they’ll help me pack it down and then I’ll bring it to your’s,” said Gig, “Don’t let me forget about taking a look at Belgard!”

 

“Armstrong and Kent, huh?” said Signet.

 

“Yep,” said Gig.

 

“Either of them actually ask you out yet?”

 

“Nope,” said Gig.

 

“Maybe you should try asking  _ them _ out,” said Signet.

 

“You sound like Tender,” said Gig, “They’re just good friends!”

 

“Whenever I see Armstrong he asks about you, tells me to say hi from him, like texting doesn’t exist. And every time Kent sees you he looks like he’s barely restraining himself for launching into an epic poem about you,” said Signet.

 

“He’s a poetry major,” said Gig, “He’s just like that.”

 

“No, he’s just like that  _ with you _ ,” said Signet.

 

“He- I-” Gig ran a hand through his hair, resettling the camera on his hip. “Maybe. But I don’t want to pressure him. His family puts a  _ lot _ of expectations on him and I know he- whatever. So we’re just friends. Good friends!”

 

Signet patted him on the arm. “Just think about it. Grand?”

 

“Uh, I don’t... have an opinion?”

 

Signet huffed a laugh. “No, I meant- let’s go.”

 

“Oh, right,” said Grand.

 

He held up her jacket for her to step into, a long-forgotten motion that for a small fraction of their time together had felt like a natural reaction. Signet looked at him for a moment, her gaze considering, before she stepped forward to slip her jacket on. Grand swallowed hard, stepping back quickly.

 

“Right, so, uh,” Grand held out her scarf, “are we going or…?”

 

“We’re going,” said Signet. “See you later, Gig.”

 

“See you tonight,” said Gig, “I’ll bring the rough edit too, so you can check it out.”

 

Signet nodded and turned away, leaving Grand to follow her.

 

They drove in silence for a few minutes, Signet scrolling through something on her phone. She let out a breath, looking up at him.

 

“That was good of you. To offer to be on Gig’s stream I mean.”

 

“If I hadn’t said anything you would have permanently bruised my ribs,” said Grand.

 

“That’s not a thing,” said Signet, “And I’ve known you to be stubbornly obtuse about stuff like that, which… anyway. I’m glad you’re finding time to help him out.”

 

“I have a few days until I have to start working on pieces,” said Grand, “It’s fine.”

 

“Really?” said Signet, “Because this is about the time in our period of dating where you stopped calling me because you were too busy to leave the house for frivolous reasons.”

 

“Well, I, uh… I don’t remember that,” said Grand.

 

He just caught the quirk of Signet’s lips at the edge of his gaze. “I know you don’t.”

 

Grand pulled into her driveway, keeping the car running. His hands fluttered before settling on his thighs.

 

“Grand,” said Signet, voice serious.

 

He looked at her, the afternoon sun framing her golden hair. The first time he’d met her, he’d asked if he could paint her, and he remember why, now.

 

Signet reached out and covered one of his hands with her’s. “For what it’s worth… I don’t think you’d say that sort of thing now.”

 

Before Grand had a chance to respond, she leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before she left the car. Grand remembered how to breathe a few moments later, swallowing hard before he drove away.

 

He had a text waiting for him when he got home, from Gig.

 

_ hey so r u free 2morrow 2 do the stream? After 2? _

 

_ Yes _ , replied Grand,  _ Do you remember where the studio is? _

 

Gig replied with a thumbs up emoji, which Grand assumed meant that he did. Grand sighed, and reached for his sketchbook. If he was going to be on a stream about his process then he had better get his thoughts in order.

 

Gig was waiting for him outside the studio as Grand approached. He bounced on the balls of his feet as he spotted Grand, beaming at him.

 

“Grand! Hey! Hi!”

 

“Hi Gig,” said Grand. Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he added, “I’m surprised to see you here early.”

 

Gig laughed. “Well, Kent’s really good at keeping track of time when he knows I have to be somewhere.”

 

“Does this mean you asked him out?” said Grand.

 

“No,” said Gig, “Friends can keep track of time for other friends.”

 

“Sure,” said Grand, turning to unlock the studio doors. “You remember where everything is?”

 

“Yeah,” said Gig, “I did a stream with Lily here a couple weeks ago.”

 

Grand frowned. “Who?”

 

“Lily Lysander,” said Gig, turning his head towards Grand as he set up his streaming equipment. “She does  _ extremely _ cool stuff with clay.” He laughed. “She was trying to show me how to make a vase but I totally wrecked it, we got clay, like, everywhere, it was so fun.”

 

Grand hummed, trying to ignore the squirming feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

He heard the familiar click- _ click _ of Gig’s camera snapping into his home-made streaming setup, and Grand turned. It looked like eight vcr’s taped together strapped to a laptop and what was maybe, at some point, a microwave.

 

“Okay!” said Gig brightly, “Ready to go?”

 

“Wait, what do you want me to do exactly?”

 

“Just, go through your sketches, whatever you feel comfortable showing,” said Gig, “This is like, a chill-out stream, so just keep talking until you see the red light flash, and then I’ll do the outro, and we’re done! Easy!”

 

“Sure,” said Grand, “And what exactly… I mean, what stuff do you want me to cover?”

 

“Anything,” said Gig, “all your stuff is super interesting.”

 

“I- really?”

 

“Yeah, of course! I always liked hearing you talk about your art.” Gig put a hand on Grand’s arm. “I still do.”

 

A green light flashed on top of Gig’s streaming equipment. Gig blinked, his gaze flicking to the camera.

 

“Sound live in ten! Ready?”

 

“No,” said Grand, “But I guess we’re too late for me to change my mind.”

 

Gig laughed. “Sort of, yeah!” He took a breath in. “Three… two… one- Hey guys! Gig Kephart here! As you know today is Wednesday which means it’s time for me to hand the reins over to one of my very cool and talented friends. Today we’re in the studio of Grand Magnificent, artist extraordinaire!”

 

“Uh,” said Grand, “Hi?”

 

He waved at the camera and immediately felt his cheeks flare with heat. Gig laughed, slinging his arm across Grand’s shoulder and giving him a quick one-armed hug. This did not make Grand’s skin feel any less heated. He wished he’d chosen a short sleeve flannel shirt for this.

 

“So Grand Mag-”

 

“ _ Grand Magnificent _ .”

 

“Grand Magnificent, of  _ course _ ,” said Gig, grinning down at Grand the way he always did when Grand pressed on this particular point. “Why don’t you show the fine folks at home the stuff you’re working on at the moment? You have a gallery show soon, right?”

 

“Yes-” Grand cleared his throat, “Yes, in a few weeks. I’ll be starting on the pieces themselves soon.”

 

“This is the clay and glass thing, right? Now we went through a big instructional on clay a few weeks ago with Lily Lysander - if you guys haven’t seen that vid you should totally go back and look it up in the archives after this stream - so maybe you could take us through the process of the glass-making and then talk us through your process a little? No that I’m asking you to give away your artist secrets!”

 

“I wouldn’t mind giving away a few of my secrets to you,” said Grand.

 

Gig blushed, his hands fluttering for a moment before settling back down on the desk in front of them. “Well! Okay! Let’s get started then!”

 

Grand went through the slow process - how to blow glass, how to shape it, how to colour it. He let Gig hammer a piece of glass flat “As a stream souvenir.”

 

Gig beamed at him, holding the glass up to the light, the blue-green light illuminating his face for a moment. Grand cleared his throat, fumbling slightly with his sketchpad before he found the right page.

 

He cleared his throat again. “Right. So the focus of  _ my _ series- not to give too much away- is  the dueling textures as representatives of our twin natures.”

 

Gig nodded, encouraging.

 

Grand took a deep breath, and continued. He tried to keep it to a simplified version (most of Gig’s viewers probably weren’t art majors of his caliber, after all), but was easy to get lost in his train of thought. It felt like only minutes had passed before the red light was flashing. Gig at least let him finish his sentence before he put a hand on Grand’s shoulder.

 

“Fascinating stuff, right guys?” Gig grinned at the camera. “And if you thought that was cool and you live in the area, you should head down to the exhibition that Grand here will be featured in! I tweeted a link to it and I’ll put one in the notes when this goes up on VOD! So check it out!” He turned to Grand, his hand sliding around Grand’s shoulder to pull him in for a hug again. “Thanks for taking to time to talk us through this, it was really great!”

 

“Oh… Good,” said Grand, not really sure what to do with Gig’s sincere tone.

 

The red light clicked off. Gig let his hand slip from Grand’s shoulder, leaning back against the desk.

 

“I mean it,” said Gig, ‘this  _ was _ really great, and I- thanks, y’know?”

 

“It was nothing,” said Grand, shuffling loose pages back into his sketchbook.

 

Gig put a hand lightly on his arm. “No, it was… it was something. I know you’re not super into being on streams, so… thanks.”

 

Grand shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad. And, I mean, you got Echo to do it and they barely even use email.”

 

Gig huffed a laugh. “Yeah, they- oh, hey, they have that championship thing tonight, you’re coming, right?”

 

“Uh… sure?”

 

Gig grinned. “Great! I have to go in early to do some video for Legato but I could give you a ride there if you want?”

 

“Sure,” said Grand.

 

“It’s only like a couple hours until I have to be there, did you want to grab a drink somewhere after we pack up here?”

 

“Sure,” said Grand, without really thinking about it.

 

“Great!” said Gig, “I’ll just be a second!”

 

Grand helped him lift the various components of his streaming setup into his car, settling them into the foam inlays in Gig’s boot.

 

“You just keep this stuff in your car?” said Grand, huffing a little with the effort of lifting it over the trunk’s edge.

 

“Nah,” said Gig, “but I move it around so often that it make sense to make like, a proper holder for it.”

 

“I guess,” said Grand. “So where did you want to go before we head to Echo’s thing?”

 

“Uh… probably not the diner,” said Gig, “You know of any other good spots nearby?”

 

The tea shop, as it happened, was just around the corner.

 

“This place is  _ very  _ cool,” said Gig, looking up at the walls, the heavily-patterned wallpaper almost completely covered in paintings and prints.

 

Grand shrugged.

 

The time passed quickly. Talking to Gig had always been easy. For someone who talked full time as a job, he was a remarkably good listener. They were very nearly late leaving the tea shop, lingering over the dregs of their tea (gunpowder black for Grand and some kind of strongly-scented fruit tea for Gig).

 

The Reverie School was a tall, imposing building on the edge of town, surrounded by a tall hedge and an immaculate lawn.

 

“Oh, good, you’re here,” said Legato, “And you brought an… assistant?”

 

“ _ What _ ??” said Grand.

 

Gig laughed. “No, he’s, Grand’s here to cheer Echo on, I just gave him a ride here.”

 

Legato looked Grand over. “ _ You’re _ Grand?”

 

“... Yes?” said Grand.

 

“Hmm. Well. Don’t get in the way. Now, Gig, the best spot for you to set up would probably be okay here…”

 

She led Gig away, leaving Grand hovering in the doorway. After a few minutes it became obvious that Gig was entirely wrapped up in perfecting Legato’s setup, and Grand looked around for something to do that wasn’t standing awkwardly in the doorway. A small door off to the side was open, possibly an office of some kind.

 

It became extremely clear as soon as Grand stepped through the door that it was not an office. It was a locker room, and the only occupant was a now-annoyed Echo Reverie.

 

“Have you ever heard of  _ knocking _ ?”

 

“The door was open!”

 

“So?” said Echo, “ _ Jesus _ … okay, you can turn back around now. Or leave.”

 

Grand turned slowly, hoping that taking his time with the motion would give himself time to cool down. Echo was in front of him, their hair a little messy from hurriedly pulling on their sweater.

 

“What are you even doing here?”

 

“Gig said it was your championship match,” said Grand.

 

“You’ve never come to one before.”

 

“Well no one ever asked me to one before,” said Grand.

 

Echo stilled. “Oh. Well. You- okay. Okay.”

 

“I didn’t think you cared about your audience,” said Grand.

 

“I don’t,” said Echo. They paused. “I’m - thanks for coming Grand.”

 

“I uh. I guess I should wait outside, huh?” said Grand, after a moment.

 

“You don’t have to,” said Echo quickly. “I um. I could probably use the company.”

 

Grand took half a step forward. “Uh.”

 

Echo huffed a laugh, sitting down on the bench and gesturing to the stop next to them. Grand sat next to them, hesitantly leaving space between them. Echo’s hands flexed where they were gripping the edge of the bench.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous,” said Grand.

 

“I’m not nervous,” said Echo, “I’m getting ready, there’s a difference.” They paused. “You said you came with Gig?”

 

“Yeah, I was helping him with a stream earlier.”

 

“You? On a stream?  _ You _ were on a stream?”

 

“I don’t know why everyone find it so surprising,” grumbled Grand, “I’m obviously a patron of all artforms.”

 

Echo laughed, bumping their shoulder against Grand’s. “Right. How silly of me to forget.”

 

Grand couldn’t help but grin back at them.

 

There was a knock at the door. “Echo? Fifteen minutes until the others get here.”

 

“Thanks Legato.”

 

They took a deep breath in and out. “Okay. Fifteen minutes, okay.”

 

“I guess I should get out of here,” said Grand.

 

“Yeah,” said Echo.

 

As he moved to stand, they reached out, catching him by the wrist.

 

“Hey, uh, thanks. For coming.”

 

“I… yeah. No problem,” said Grand, “Next time you have one of these, let me know?”

 

Echo smiled up at him. “I will.”

 

There were more people in the bleachers as Grand left the changing room. He waved at Gig as he took his seat, who waved back enthusiastically before turning back to the camera setup. It didn’t take long for other people to arrive, mostly in groups, some with banners or small flags in what Grand assumed was their groups colours.

 

The championship, when it began, was breathtaking. The movements of each fighter incredibly fast, the sound of their weapons through the air almost audible over the gasps of the crowd. Grand’s fingers itched for his sketchbook, to capture the swooping feelings of fear and joy on paper so he could recreate them in immortal glass. He tried to commit it all to memory, focusing hard of the curving sweep of Echo’s arm as they handily defeated their final opponent.

 

They grinned up at the crowd, but Grand felt like they were looking straight at him as he cheered. He waited for the flurry around them to disperse a little before he approached them.

 

“Congratulations.”

 

Echo laughed, pushing their hair away from their face. “Oh that? It was easy.”

 

“You certainly make it look that way.”

 

Echo’s cheeks flushed pink. “Well. Thanks, I- thanks. And thanks for coming today.”

 

“I didn’t really do anything,” said Grand.

 

“You showed up,” said Echo.

 

Even when he got back to his apartment that night, Grand couldn’t stop thinking about it.

 

_ Hey next time you have one of those things, let me know _ .

 

Echo’s reply came a minute later:  _ I will. _

 

Grand didn’t see much of anyone for the next month, as the exhibition drew closer and closer. Or, no, he did see people in bits and pieces -Tender bringing him a cup of coffee at the studio. Signet coming by with tea. Fourteen giving him a lift home. Gig texting him every five minutes after 11pm to go to bed. Echo dropping by his apartment with a box of water bottles. Even and Cascabel stopping by with food.

 

It was surprisingly easy to get his work done when he wasn’t trying to live entirely off the contents of the vending machine outside of the studio. In fact, it was probably the best he’d felt coming up to an exhibition. He even managed to drag himself home to sleep, shower, and get dressed in clean clothes (from the dry cleaning bag Signet had left him) before the show instead of changing into whatever he found in the back of his car that seemed clean.

 

It was a good thing too.

 

“I’m here with my good friend Grand Mag at his art show! Say hi Grand!” said Gig, holding the phone out in selfie mode to capture his beaming face and Grand’s confused one.

 

“Hi,” said Grand, “What are you doing here?”

 

“I’m here to see my good friend’s exhibition!”

 

“Oh,” said Grand, looking around, “Who?”

 

Gig laughed. “You, of course! Wow this stuff is great! I thought it would be cool to livestream the final product, since people got, like, a sneak peak earlier. Is that cool?”

 

“Sure,” said Grand, “And uh. Thanks for coming.”

 

Gig grinned at him again. “No problem! I think some of the others are coming by later.”

 

“They are?”

 

“Yeah,” said Gig, “I think Echo’s already around? I saw them when I was parking, so- hey!”

 

Grand turned, expecting to see Echo and seeing Even and Cascabel instead. They waved, walking towards Grand.

 

“Uh, hi?” said Grand.

 

“Hey,” said Even, “Is this your stuff?”

 

“Yes, it’s, uh, it’s a study on different forms in motion,” said Grand.

 

“Cool,” said Even, “Wow, you’ve got heaps!”

 

“You saw what I was working on,” said Grand.

 

“Yeah but it looks so much  _ more _ when you put it together, y’know?”

 

Signet was the next person to arrive, accompanied by Echo.

 

“This place is like a maze,” said Echo, “One second I was in the parking lot and then the next I was in some kind of biology lab. Anyway! This looks great!”

 

“Thanks,” said Grand, “I, uh, wasn’t expecting so many people to show up.”

 

“Well normally you don’t tell us you have an exhibition on,” said Signet.

 

“I know art isn’t really most people’s _ thing _ ,” said Grand.

 

“Sure,” said Signet, “but it’s different when it’s your friend’s art.”

 

Tender and Fourteen arrived together, with Morning in tow. Tender pulled Grand into a hug, and Grand hoped no one heard his sound of surprise.

 

“Ohmygosh this all looks so cool I don’t know where to start!” said Tender. “Grand, it’s your exhibition, where should we start?”

 

“Uh, I guess… the left? There’s no real starting point.”

 

Fourteen nodded solemnly, their serious expression changing to a smile as Tender pulled them towards Grand’s area of the exhibition.

 

Which left him standing next to Morning.

 

“Uh, hi,” said Grand.

 

“Hi,” said Morning.

 

“I didn’t… I wouldn’t have expected you to be here,” said Grand carefully.

 

Morning shrugged. “I like art.”

 

They were both quiet for a moment.

 

“Hey Grand-” said Morning.

 

“Listen-” said Grand at the same moment.

 

“Oh, uh.”

 

“You go,” said Morning, “it’s your exhibition.”

 

“I was just… I know it’s been a while, and I’m sure you’re over it but I uh. I probably should have called. When I broke up with you. You didn’t… I mean, I thought I doing it in a quick way was better but I… maybe in person would have been less…”

 

“Shitty?” offered Morning.

 

“I was going to say impersonal, but yeah, I guess.” Grand shifted his feet. “So yeah. I hope… how are you?”

 

Morning huffed a laugh. “I’m good man. My moms are gearing up for their anniversary so the diner is fully decked out.” He gave Grand a sidelong look. “You should stop by sometime. Give it your artistic impressions.”

 

“That’s… yeah. That’d be good,” said Grand.

 

“Hey, Grand,” called Gig, “my viewers want to know the story behind this piece, you got a minute?”

 

“For you?” said Grand, “Sure.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2/2 up next Monday!! See you then.
> 
>  
> 
> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


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